Crystals, Cufflinks, and Corsets
by Wind-in-the-Sage
Summary: Schultz sometimes has difficulty understanding what he sees come bed checks. Some things reek of monkey business. 2018 SSSW.


A/N: Thanks to my little sister for the idea!

* * *

Hogan and Kinch were almost out of the tunnels when Carter said, "Shultz is coming!" Carter sat at the table and they hurried out the rest of the way, the bunk slamming closed just as the door opened. Shultz stepped in and gave the bunk a wary look before dismissing it and looking at LeBeau next to the stove.

"LeBeau? Is dinner done?"

"Oui, it is done. You can taste test." He went to spoon some delicious smelling sauce from the pan, but Hogan held out an arm and stopped him.

"Hold up, Shultz. There's going to be a bed check tonight. When?"

"Colonel Hogan, how did you know?" Confirmation.

"Rumor gets around. It's just going to be you, isn't it? Klink isn't sending someone else out to double check your counting?" Shultz paused a moment as if he hadn't considered that.

"No, of course not. I can count to fifteen," he said proudly.

"There's news. Shultz can count to—" Hogan held up a hand to silence Newkirk. It seemed Shultz would do what he could to assure only his presence in the barracks that night.

"And when is that going to be?" Hogan repeated.

"Hogan, I cannot tell you. It is a surprise," he whispered.

"Oh," Hogan lowered his voice to match Shultz's. "So is dinner. I'm afraid you can't taste it."

Shultz looked longingly at LeBeau who shrugged and put the pan back on the stove, taking a taste himself and putting on a show of how much he enjoyed it. Shultz caved.

"Mmmm, alright. Two hours after lights out. May I try, cockroach?" He was already pushing his way over to the stove, and few in the barracks could have stopped him.

Five minutes later they hurried Shultz out and crowded Hogan.

"What's the news?"

"What did London say?"

"Why do we need to know about a bed check?"

"Hold it, hold it. Here's the deal. They want us to get a Reyel Fabien Chabert, actor, out of Germany."

"Sounds French," said Newkirk.

"Of course he is," replied LeBeau. "One of the best in opera. Colonel, I didn't know he was performing for the Boche," he said, flicking his spoon and unknowingly hitting Newkirk in the face with a splatter of sauce. He wiped it off with disgust.

"He is. Tonight," said Hogan. "We've got to get him out during the show."

"During the show?"

"While he's on stage?"

"Is London daft?"

"Can't we wait till afterwards?"

"Hold it!" quieted Hogan. "The sub's waiting to take him out tonight. And it can't be any later. In his business, he's rubbing shoulders with a lot of important people and he has information."

"Can't we just ask for the information?" asked Carter.

"Yeah," Newkirk agreed. "Then 'e can keep doin' what 'e's doin' an' we can keep doin' what we're doin' without getting caught in the middle of some crazy stunt."

"No, we can't. The Gestapo knows how much he's learning too, and they're onto him. We have to get him out ASAP."

"Then how are we going to get him out without attracting suspicion?" asked Kinch.

"I'll think of something."

They all groaned, knowing what that meant. ("Carter, you can 'ave me cigarette stash when I don't make it back." "Really?" "No.")

"Alright, calm down," Hogan said. "We have till lights out to think of something, then we leave for the Düsseldorf Operahouse. That should give us just enough time to get over there for the beginning of the show. And for what's cooking up, I think I'm going to need all of you."

~~HH~~

Hogan was getting agitated. He was just about done talking to all of these millionaires. He avoided the urge to check his watch. Instead, he ran his finger around his starched collar. One of the men noticed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, um, just a bit warm in here, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes I do. What if we went into the auditorium now?" Everyone else in their small group agreed, and soon they were moving out of the extravagantly decorated lobby into the even more extravagant auditorium. Hogan took the moment to pretend he was in awe of the theatre, while actually looking around for his men.

~~HH~~

"Carter, are you ready?" Newkirk hissed into the dark.

"Um, no."

"What do you mean, no? 'e's gonna be on stage next scene! You've got your bomb ready?"

"Oh, the bomb's fine. I'm just having trouble with the rigging."

Newkirk sighed. "Need 'elp?"

There was a pause. And then a somewhat desperate, "Please."

"Fine. Where are you?" Newkirk tried to work himself through the various set pieces and pulleys backstage, looking for Carter, and having a terrible time of it. Carter didn't respond. "Carter, where are you?"

Suddenly he heard a giggle overhead. "That's you, Newkirk?"

Newkirk looked up to see Carter, suspended a good meter and a half off the ground, tangled in ropes, with bomb in hand, hanging next to a few sand bags. And he was starting to laugh harder.

"Shove off. Line of duty. 'ow do I get you down?"

Carter gasped a breath in and pointed to a pile of rope next to Newkirk. Then he continued laughing.

"Be quiet, or someone's gonna come back here wondering where the actress is." Newkirk cursed himself as Carter only laughed harder. That was most certainly the wrong thing to say. Instead of telling him off again, he tugged on the rope coming from the pile and Carter dropped to the ground.

~~HH~~

Kinch finally made it onto the roof. He always seemed to get the tough jobs whenever they went out. And his heart was in his throat after all of the close calls hearing a person coming down the hallway, dangling out an open window, and finally pulling himself over the edge of the three story roof. There was a reason he stayed on radio.

He looked over the flat roof, measuring with his eyes right about where the center should be. And that there should be the knob he was looking for. He pulled out his saw, checked his watch, said a prayer, and got to work.

~~HH~~

LeBeau was forced to stand on a seat to see over the crowd in front of him. There was the stage. And they were only on Act 1 Scene 2. He still had time.

~~HH~~

"You'd better be able to see 'im!"

"Well, I can't!"

Newkirk checked his watch again, which took some doing. The soprano's voice drifted through the giant wooden set. "'ow are you gonna know when to drop the bomb?"

"You have to go out there and tell me."

"What?"

"I said you have to go out on stage and watch for LeBeau's signal—"

"I know what you said," he growled. "You can't move something out of the way?"

"If I do, the whole thing's gonna come down. No one will even notice you."

Newkirk looked at his watch, mumbled something unfit for Carter's ears, and prepared himself.

~~HH~~

Hogan shifted in his seat. He eyed the audience members next to him. Their attention was to the front. He looked to the stage again. Every tremble of the scenery, every off noise, was catching his attention. Now, he did look at his watch. Any minute now. He switched his legs, crossing them the other way. Suddenly, a strong male voice appeared, and with it, Reyel Fabien Chabert.

"Come on, come on," Hogan muttered.

~~HH~~

LeBeau, from his very high perch, watched the stage. Chabert entered, left stage. Now all he had to do was give the signal when he stepped into center stage, Carter would lower his bomb, Kinch would provide the distraction, and they'd get Chabert out of ther—

A new actress stepped onto the stage at right. Her dress was magnificent, a delicate blue, her powdered wig nearly as big as the dress, laden with sparkling jewels, diamonds in her hair and at her neck, glinting in the stage lights, her face accentuated by the makeup. To most of the audience, she was a glorious vision, but LeBeau's artist's eye caught the rather un-feminine walk, and her long gloves... one of them pulled down to reveal a hairy arm and a man's watch—

LeBeau's hand flew to his mouth. It almost didn't stifle the outright laugh. Unfortunately, it upset his balance, and he felt himself pitching forwards. He reached out, hoping to catch anything before he fell.

~~HH~~

Hogan looked down at his trousers. He brushed off the white dust that had collected. More fell. He looked up. His eyes went wide.

Dangling directly above him was a diminutive Frenchman, hanging off the grandiose crystal chandelier. A movement caught his eye. Above that, where the chandelier hung from the ceiling, was the end of a saw blade moving up and down in something not quite resembling a circle. He looked reflexively to the stage. To his horror, a fabulously bedecked actress had entered, and he thought he could recognize the face under the copious amounts of powder and lipstick. She put her hand behind the set, and suddenly, a crescent moon was falling from the rigging, as if in slow motion. If anyone had been watching for it, and Hogan happened to be the only one, they might have seen the actress swept off the stage as if tugged by a string.

He heard the crack of plaster above him before it was drowned out by an explosion.

~~HH~~

"It wasn't my fault you got your foot caught in that rope!" Carter protested. "Besides, it was a good thing. Your dress broke my fall."

"And I broke me leg!"

"You just pulled a muscle," corrected Hogan. "I had to break LeBeau's fall."

"And I had to carry you home," interrupted Kinch. "And you wouldn't believe how much that dress weighed."

"I would."

Suddenly, the door opened and the lights flipped on. "Bed check! Bed check, everyone! Raus! Raaauuu..." Shultz trailed off at the scene in front of him.

LeBeau was sitting at the table, shaking out his coat and examining the crystals that had fallen on the floor below, Hogan was removing a pair of cufflinks, Kinch was leaning against the bunks brushing powder off his front now that the lights were on, and Carter was leaning over, helping to tug a small pair of heels off of the feet of a woman with a frightening amount of stage makeup on, halfway out of a dress with a giant hoop, sitting on the table in the middle of the room.

All was silent for a moment.

"Do you _mind_?" said Newkirk.

Shultz backed out of the door mumbling apologies before he realized that that was not a woman, that was Corporal Newkirk, and he was not supposed to be in a dress, and there must be monkey business going on, and he barraged back in.

"Colonel Hogan, what is going on? Why is there monkey business? You are supposed to be in bed. I leave you alone for two hours, and all this happens! Nothing should be happening!"

Hogan put his hand on Shultz's shoulder, causing another crystal to fall to the floor. "Shultz. **An awful lot can happen in two hours.** "

"Ow! That pinches!"


End file.
